The Magic's in the Moon
by CreativeCalling
Summary: Jackson, by some strange magic, has been asleep for eight years, ever since that coloring book incident. One young-man seems to be the only one able to help him. The only one able to save him from himself. Can this one man save Jackson before this strange magic takes him away. This is Scott/Jackson so if you like please read.
1. Chapter 1

**This story is based of of famous fairy tale, a reinterpretation of it actually. This story will include other parings (in other fairy tales), but it's mostly Jackson/Scott. Thank you for reading.**

** Please Read & Review; it only takes a couple of seconds ; ).**

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"Who's your favourite princess ?" asked a small red (strawberry-blonde) headed girl.

She was currently flipping through her Disney Princess coloring book. The small girl was addressing the small blonde ( brown ? I'm really not sure) headed boy sitting beside her in her tree 'mansion'. They were at a barbecue; the boy's parents had decided to have lunch with their neighbours; the Martins.

The barbecue was almost over when little Lydia Martin asked her folks if she could play with the neighbour's kid. And that's how she met the Whitemore's son, Jackson. Jackson was currently sitting cross legged in her tree house with a firm frown.

" I don't have a favourite princess." the boy pouted. He was looking at the coloring book like it offended him. Constantly glancing over to where his parents were.

"That's okay, I think I found one for us color anyway." Lydia pointed to a colorless picture of Princess Aurora. She smiled up at him hopefully.

But Jackson didn't notice because he was entranced ; the picture in front of him seemed so captivating. The princess was dreaming in a cozy bed in a beautiful gown, something about it almost seemed right. He hadn't realized his eyes started dilating and his breath started coming in shallow. Until Lydia handed him a marker, a little warily. Jackson took the marker blushing brightly, hoping Lydia would forget what just happened, and began coloring with his pink marker. The two colored all the way into the afternoon without a hitch and when they were finished, Lydia looked at it proudly

"Wow Jackson you're the best colorer ever ! Mommy and Daddy have to hang this one up for sure." the little girl climbed out of the tree 'mansion' excitedly, seemingly forgetting the little boy.

But Jackson just smiled a little bit and made to get up. But as he did a wave of dizziness hit him. He couldn't get on his feet and when he could he would trip over them. He found a shelf to support him but that didn't help; he still felt nauseous. He moved to wipe the sweat dripping from his brow but ended up hitting his eye instead,the back of his hand feeling damp as he pulled it away. Why did he feel so dizzy ? Was he sick or something? He didn't know but he had to call for help.

But no one responded when he did, no one was turning around. He did all he could, he screamed at them, at the top of his lungs. He even tried to throw something but he couldn't pick up anything. As a matter of fact his arms and legs were starting tingle.

But that didn't matter. If they couldn't hear him from here then he'd have to get closer.

So he wobbled toward the door, knocking down anything he could grab on to. He reached for the ladder from the safety of a near by shelf, but to no avail. So he tried to step toward the door and tripped. He didn't know whether it was over his own feet or a loose board, but his eye was definitely throbbing in pain. He quickly summoned the strength to move his hand and scrambled for something, anything. He felt something on the near by wall and thought it was a something to hold on to.

"Ouch !" he quickly drew his bleeding finger back suddenly loosing his previous valor.

Now he was starting to panic. His vision was becoming even more blurring and then they started watering as tears started spilling. His left leg had already become a numb tingle as did his right arm. But he could feel them but in a weird way. Like they weren't his or something. And he could still move them albeit a little awkwardly. And so he moved them with all his strength.

When he got to the ladder he looked and gulped. His vision was still blurry and the ground looked a lot farther than it had before. But he wouldn't stop. He needed his mommy and his daddy to take this pain away. He tried to climb down the ladder but never remembered climbing down only hitting something very solid and very hard.

Jackson doesn't remember what happened after that. All he knows is that he had been moved to a soft comfortable surface, unable to move, unable to speak, and unable to open his eyes. But he can hear people, he can hear what they say about him. He's in a coma, or so they think. They're not sure. But his family, they come in all the time, and they try to speak to him. Try to wake him up but nothing works, nothing. They would rub his head, hold his hands, they would even try reading to him, but nothing. All he wanted to do was open his eyes and and hug them and tell them he loved them, but all he could do is cry. He would cry all the time, especially when his parents were there and even when they weren't.

But no one would notice.

No one would ever know he was awake.

And so, reluctantly, he gave up.

Praying for death,all the time, hoping for something to pull him out of this damned limbo.

And all the time, death would never come.

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**Do you guys think I should continue ? Please tell me if I should. Anyway, Thank you for reading this. have an amazing day.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Alright guys first I want to thank you guys for the views and the reviews (special thank you to cloud646). Just so you guys know I can see your reviews now. But back to business. I hope you guys don't mind the length of this. I also took some liberty with the names. (i.e Ava Stilinski) . So yeah, let me know what you guys think.**

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" Happy Birthday !"

The whole room erupted in cheers. Everyone had placed their presents on the next bed and had gathered around Jackson's sleeping form. Mrs. Whittemore rolled her eyes. She had been making sure everyone kept the volume to a minimum, unfortunately that was becoming harder each cheer.

But she still smiled, almost everyone she had invited came. Unfortunately it was a few more than last year but enough for a small celebration. Only close family members and their next door neighbors the Martins, who's daughter, Lydia, has been here almost as much as she has.

Right now the young lady was beaming at Jackson, probably thinking nobody was looking, from over by the window. Just then Mrs. Stilinski appeared in front of her. She smiled and enveloped Mrs. Whitemore in a warm hug. Her long time friend pulled away smiling sadly.

" Hi ,Judith," Mrs. Stilinski said, while ushering the two away from the festivities. "-how long has it been?"

" It's been eight years Ava, eight years my son has been on that bed, with no signs of waking up." she closed her eyes to hold back the tears. Ava placed a comforting hand on her arm as she continued.

" You know to this day I still don't understand how this happened. How could a concussion cause a coma ?"

"Don't worry yourself about that okay. The doctors are doing all they can." Ava consoled.

"Then why isn't my son awake." she whispered harshly.

Ava looked away pensively. She couldn't really answer that. So far the doctors have been just as confused as they were. And now their saying it's not a coma but something like it. What is that supposed to mean ? Is that supposed to be reassuring ? Because it sure as hell wasn't. Then it suddenly dawned on Ava.

" Judy, where's David ?" Ava looked around once more to confirm her suspicion, David Whittemore was indeed not present.

"He went to talk to one of his clients." she answered half heartedly.

Ava nodded her head absently. Their conversation was done and Judy Whittemore collected herself and about faced. But she was held back by Mrs. Stilinski's sudden fit of coughing. She stood back to help but her friend shooed her away. She breathed, collected herself and smiled appreciatively to her friend. The two returned to the small gathering a moment later.

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A few minutes later everyone left, leaving their presents on Jackson's bedside table. They left the small room enveloped in chatter and warmth that only family and close friends could bring. The group was so enveloped in their conversations that they didn't notice the teen duo at the opposite end of the hall.

When the group left the duo sneaked over to the room, entering a little less quietly. One kid ; long, lean and with a crew cut of dark brown hair, bumped in to a table- accidentally knocking over it's contents.

The other teen; only a little bit shorter, with dark brown hair, olive skin and a goofy grin as tried not to laugh at his friend. Said friend corrected himself before shoving the one with the goofy grin. To which goofy grin( alright, his name is Scott) shoved back. Genim(Stiles), forgetting how strong his friend was, was easily shoved onto the sleeping form of Jackson Whittemore.

Scott rushed over to help his friend but stopped when he seemed to have gotten up by himself. Stiles seemed to have been caught in a state of awe as he corrected himself. He stumbled upon exactly who he was looking for.

For weeks now people had been talking about the sleeping boy in the hospital. People said he'd been asleep for like a hundred years or something (of course Stiles didn't believe that part) and so he had to know more. And as he observed the boy at that moment he was already coming up with several theories.

Scott on the other hand was just in awe at the boy's appeal. As he moved to check the medical charts he couldn't help but keep glancing up at the boy. Apparently his name was Jackson and Jackson had soft pale skin (well it looked soft), pink lips(which also looked soft), and (soft) dark blond hair. And Scott tried really hard not to look at the show of skin near the 'V' in Jackson's shirt. Yeah ,Scott knew himself pretty well, and he knew he was gay for a long time now. He just hadn't told anybody, not even Stiles, his best friend.

Which is exactly why he is here right now, because best friends have each other's back. Especially when one's best friend's father is town sheriff. So Scott stood watch by the door as Stiles sought to satisfy his own curiosity.

"Dude this doesn't make any sense." Stiles rubbed at his hair frustratingly.

"What ?" Scott said still observing the room's entrance.

"This guy. There's nothing physically...wrong with him. As a matter of fact he could just be sleeping right now." Stiles looked over Jackson with a questioning look.

"Or maybe they can't _find_ what's physically-wrong with him, yet ?" Scott offered, finally turning around.

"Yeah, Or _maybe_ this guy's just playing a joke." Stiles looked a little too enthusiastic about that.

Before Scott could respond Stiles was trying to wake Jackson. Stiles was clapping loudly in Jackson's ear. "Stiles , What the hell ?" Scott whispered harshly.

"Dude relax,alright, I got this." Stiles said still clapping. "Now Shhh."

"Dude Stop !"

Scott practically rammed Stiles away from the bed literally seconds before nurse Melissa McCall entered the room. "Scott!" Melissa called. "Any body !" She scanned the room, only noticing the plate of spilled food and Jackson's sleeping form leaning toward the edge of the bed. Mrs. McCall adjusted Jackson to a comfortable position. She smiled sadly at him before turning to get a broom and pan.

Scott and Stiles emerged immediately from their hiding spot under the bed. Scott glared at Stiles as he feigned a look of innocence.

Stiles: "What ? I was just making sure he wasn't faking it."

Scott: " Stiles we almost got caught ,and by my Mom of all people."

Stiles: "Right and I think we should probably get going because she is coming back.

Scott: "Let's just go alright."

Stiles reluctantly agreed as Scott led them toward the door. He gave one more glance toward Jackson and then he smelled it. He finally smelt the weird mix of sadness, hope and fear. But he couldn't ask for Stiles' opinion on it because they had to get out of there. So he turned away reluctantly as he led Stiles outside.

Just as they were about to turn the corner.

" Scott Emerson McCall !"

Stiles turned to Scott as he had a look as if he was in physical pain. The two turned around slowly to face Melissa McCall. The head nurse had a look pure anger, Scott knew because he could smell it. The tension was interrupted by a, "Emerson, seriously ?". Scott discreetly punched his friend in the shoulder then ("Ouch !").

Melissa walked up to them. " What are you two doing out of school ?"

Stiles: "Uh-Class field trip ?"

Melissa: "Right. And this field trip probably happens to involve nobody from the class, am I right ?"

Scott: "Mom It's not- It's..."

Melissa: "You mean it's not you and Stiles cutting school."

Scott: "Actually-that's exactly what it looks like, doesn't it?" Scott winced at the hard truth.

While Stiles winced at the harsh pull on his ear by one Melissa McCall.

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Scott never got the chance to discuss what happened with Jackson but he couldn't get it out of his mind. Now he knew Jackson was in physical pain or something like it. Could Jackson hear them ? Well it wasn't unheard of for coma patients being able to hear. So maybe Jackson could hear them. Unfortunately he wouldn't be able to test that seeing how he's grounded for the week. But why was Jackson in pain, was it because of Stiles ? Or was it because of his condition? Scott didn't know but he wanted to find out. He couldn't pinpoint the feeling but he definitely had one about Jackson Whittemore.

But Scott didn't want to think about this anymore, he was tired and he needed some sleep. And so Scott went bed dreaming of Jackson.

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**So yeah, Thank you for reading and please leave a review to let me know if I should continue.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry guys but I had to include Lydia's point of view at some point. So I hope you'll love all the drama that ensues.**

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**Two day later...**

Scott awoke from his peaceful slumber, ready and aching to get out of bed. So when he finished his morning routine he headed downstairs for breakfast. When he saw his mom by the table he sat directly across from her. She looked up expectantly from her phone as he took in an awkward breath.

"So, uh, mom. I was wondering if I could go..to the hospital." He scratched the back of his neck looking away nervously as he was sure his face was as red as a tomato.

Melissa gave her son a worried look. "Are you okay honey. Do you _need_ to go to the hospital ?"

Scott looked as if he was cursing the heavens before he continued. " Uh no, I was just wondering if I could go after school."

Melissa put her phone down on the table next to her morning coffee, she folded her hands on her lap and began. " You know your still grounded, right?"She gave her son a knowing look.

Scott just looked dejected. "Yes." he answered downheartedly.

His mother relented after a long pause. " Fine. You can go to the hospital but no where else." she pointed her finger at him in a reprimanding manner.

Scott's face turned from disheartened to excited within seconds. "Seriously ?!"

"Yes." Melissa nodded reluctantly. She just hoped Scott wouldn't take this for granted.

Scott then laughed, releasing some of the energy from his elated state. The two then fell into a comfortable silence

When it had been verging on too long it was then broken by Melissa.

"So, you want some eggs ?"

Scott nodded, his stomach grumbling as he did.

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She whisked away the sweat from her brow as she had just finished cleaning him up. She fixed the boy into a comfortable position, neatly packed her tools away, and said goodbye to Mr. Whittemore on the way out.

Mr. Whittemore patted his son on the shoulder before leaving. He grumpily wiped at unshed tears on his way out. And now Jackson was alone.

Again.

But he didn't mind the silence today, no, days like today he reveled in it. He has noticed that his room gets more visitors frequently nowadays, even his dad had been coming here more often. And so that's why his room had been so noisy these past few days. He briefly wondered if it signified the coming of something big. Maybe they were going to bury him finally.

He mentally scolded himself for that thought. He couldn't bare to think about being buried somewhere so small and dark and just...evil. Jackson would never admit it to anybody, even if he could, that he was horribly scared of his bedroom closet and then that fear had transcended his closet to everything small , compact and dark. He felt his body grow cold with sweat at the thought and his heart skip a few beats and he quickly prayed for the calming presence of that boy again.

That boy ?

Right. There had been some guy in here, well two, sometime ago. He really never knows the date nowadays; but he remembers it was his birthday. It was two guys, one named Stiles and the other, he doesn't know the other one's name but he knows his presence was comforting. That boy ,Stiles, was scaring him; he was clapping in his ears and he didn't know what he wanted. But very briefly an overwhelming sense of comfort, safety, and warmth hit him. And he just knew it was coming from the one that wasn't Stiles. The feeling was so overwhelming it almost brought him to tears.

Then he remembers feeling alone and empty when the two were leaving. He had really hoped that boy would've stayed. Maybe he would come back.

But he didn't hold his breath at the notion. He'd probably never hear from that guy again. He couldn't fight the tears that fell then, not that he wanted to. Just then he promised himself he would find a guy like that to love him. He wanted to feel that warmth and comfort forever.

Just when he had began to delve into his thoughts, a cold hand fell onto his forehead.

What the hell ?

Jackson didn't know what was going on. He doesn't remember hearing the door open. When the hell had somebody entered ? What were they doing here ?

Jackson immediately started to panic, he briefly prayed that boy was here again.

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Lydia quickly took off her hat and gloves and put them in her pocket. She rubbed her cold hands together furiously as she walked about the room. When she finally summoned enough courage she pulled a seat from the wall beside Jackson's bed.

She petted his head again as she looked onto him longingly. When she relinquished her petting she looked about the room nervously. She wondered what would come of her friends seeing her now, debating whether or not to talk to a comatose patient. But she couldn't help herself when it came to Jackson.

Not only had that eight year old been her first friend in a new town, but also her first love. She knew when she saw that little boy by the grill, with a cute frown set firmly in place, that she wanted to be with him. She remembers crying endlessly the night Jackson was taken into the hospital. The little girl thought it was her fault that her new friend got hurt.

But there was nothing she could do about it now as she looked to her friend's face again, he looked so peaceful; and then her mind went blank when her eyes settled on his slightly parted lips. Her mind then flashed to what those lips would feel like on hers. She turned away then, blushing bright red for anyone to see.

But then she bit her lip in contemplation. No one would actually see her do it. It would just be a quick one.

And so her heart picked up in pace as she inched closer. Her heart felt like a hammer as she planted a kiss on Jackson's cheek to settle her nerves.

As she backed away she stopped a few inches from his face,her heart hammering away, as her eyes once again fell upon his lips.

And so she made a move, and those lips were definitely softer than whatever she had imagined.

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Scott quickly made his way through the long corridor of the hospital searching for room 301, Jackson's room.

As he stopped in front of the familiar silver doors he took a chance to peek in.

He looked inside until his eyes fell upon an image of a girl , about his age, in position that looked as if she was kissing someone. The girl backed up and made to get her things from the table and he got a clear view of Jackson.

Scott quickly backed away from the door, heart feeling heavy. He suddenly felt like he was intruding on something intimate and back tracked down the long corridor.

He honestly felt a little heart broken.

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**Do you like the drama I created. If so please leave a review.**


	4. Chapter 4

**So thank you to anyone still reading and those who have enjoyed my story, I hope you continue to do so. :)**

**In this chapter you'll finally get insight into Stiles' point of view and the magic in the moon. I put a lot of effort in so please leave a review. ; ) Also I can't really write Stiles so I apologize in advance.  
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Jackson's only comfort in his state are his dreams and on a night like tonight, he gets just that. And why not ? If not his long , difficult week then his serene surroundings certainly called for it. With the strange chimes of rustling trees and the otherwise undisturbed silence this night certainly calls for long awaited peace. And that's what this woman, in her ever present white glow, plans for young Jackson.

She has been watching him for a long time, and only chooses on nights like tonight to intervene. She places her hand on the boy's forehead, quickly being overcome with grief, agony and confusion. She sighs audibly on the boy's behalf, only wanting to comfort him. With a brief flash, the moon's light increases with brightening glow, and then it stops as quickly as it started. The boy's pain ,for the time being, is forgotten.

The woman smiles, almost deviously, but not because of ill-intentions. No, but because of her cunning new idea. With a swift, almost undetectable, movement , her magic is set in place.

Once again she smiles to her self, with that slight devious edge. Then as fast and as gentle as the howling wind the woman has one bare foot on the night's air and the other on the ledge of the open window. She whispers, meaning only for Jackson to hear; "In 29 days." she says, echoes following on the ends of others, each one louder than the first. " In 29 days, your life will change."

Her voice had reached it's peak then, easily shattering the fragile glass of the window. Soon the cacophony of the trembling objects and breaking glass dies down to dead silence. Leaving Jackson as he was, in peaceful slumber, with a faint angelic glow.

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Stiles has to give Scott some credit, he really knows how to milk that wounded puppy look. All last weekend he's had that look and Stiles is really starting to worry that it won't go away. So Stiles stands irritatingly still, mulling over ways to cheer up a puppy, as the last rounds of instructions are explained to the class and they're allowed to begin their experiments. As class proceeds with their assignment Stiles chances a look up from his work book in Scott's direction, the latter has been working rather _too_ quietly for the past couple of minutes. Despite his sullen mood Scott worked diligently with Stiles as they completed their assignment and Stiles had to give it to Scott again, because he also really knew how to put on a poker face.

The moment school ended Stiles finally got around to asking Scott what was making him so moody. When he did ,Scott was on the lacrosse field ,in gear, scooping up balls and flinging them into the goal with practiced ease, each one seemingly with more force behind it. That is until the last ball tore through the net, leaving an apparently angry Scott with no way to vent his anger he guessed.

Stiles chose this as his moment to intervene and proceeded to Scott's position on the field. The guy was seething uncontrollably, it was as if he couldn't reign in his own anger . But Stiles put away all his second guessing and continued toward him. By the time he did get to Scott he realized he didn't know what to ask. So he attempted an awkward ice breaker.

" So is this about.." he stopped abruptly when Scott glared at him, suddenly feeling like vicious amber flames were lashing at him. Stiles stepped back due to the sheer force of the glare.

Scott's face suddenly fell as he turned away from Stiles shocked expression. Stiles picked up on Scott's guilt and continued boldly for both of them.

" Do you mind telling me what's made you so pissed lately." he inquired.

Scott was bitting his lip when he turned to him, as if he didn't want something to slip out, but what would Scott be holding back. Luckily Scott decided to say something finally. " It's nothing-it's just work and all, you know-extra hours and stuff." he fumbled out.

Stiles narrowed his eyes at the strange explanation, it didn't sound believable in the least; he really wished he had Scott's wolf powers at that moment. So he settled for less as he decided to press Scott for more information.

"Just work, huh. Work has seriously got tearing our brand new goals a new one."

" Yeah,like I said just...work."

"You want to elaborate..."

"Hours-extra hours."

"Dude did something set you off, it was Coach right. No, Greenberg-definitely. That guy is always pissing everybody off..."

"Stiles- just drop it."

Stiles did a double take at his best friend's harsh tone. Scott even had the nerve to look unabashed,like you're to yell at your only friend. Stiles felt the force of pent up frustration, disbelief and admittedly-jealousy.

"You know what Scott forget it. If you want to suffer through your little puppy period _all _by your self, fine! Don't come running to me when you finally get some fucking sense back,you stupid jerk!"

Then it was Scott's turn to feel shocked, and then the damned wounded puppy look, but no, Stiles is not having it. He makes a show of his irritation and stalks off the field soon after. He leaves a befuddled Scott out on the cold field.

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When Stiles came home that afternoon, dropping his things gracelessly and loudly-not even caring who heard. He entered the house stumbling upon his dad gracelessly strewn across the living room couch- clearly asleep. Stiles chuckled-enjoying the reprieve from his brooding, even if it was for a sparse moment.

Stiles walked up to his room finally taking in the eerie quiet, usually this house was full of Stilinskis bustling around with one thing or another but not today. As Stiles stopped by his door he narrowed his eyes at the door on the right end of the hallway as it creaked open. He walked toward it , deliberately, buying himself time to think. His parents usually never left that door open unless one of them was actually in the room, it was a form of protection for curious three year olds-but his mom shouldn't be home now.

When Stiles finally stood in front of the door he bustled inside. When he did -what he saw made him jump out of his skin.

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Scott went to bed that night thinking of ways to make things up to Stiles, and he was briefly reminded of the words said that afternoon. He couldn't tell Stiles the real reason why he was upset, it was just stupid, but he was always doing something stupid. What kind of idiot falls for someone in a coma ? _'__**You did-i**__**d**__**iot' **_his inner voice helpfully supplied. And it was true, all those days pinning for him and he never fathomed the possibility of a girlfriend. He couldn't help but scold himself for always falling for someone out of his league.

Scott finally went to bed at four, still heart broken and frustrated, but he had to move on despite it.

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**Who is the strange woman in Jackson's room, what does she mean his life will change ? What has shaken Stiles to the bone ? Will Scott actually be able to move on ? Please leave a review if you want to find out; it only takes a couple seconds. ;) **


	5. Chapter 5

_**Thank you to everyone who viewed this, sorry it took so long—i just had to find out where this story was going. But I think I got hold of something and I'm gonna roll with it. So finally here is the fifth chapter to "The magic's in the moon. " Enjoy. ; )**_

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Jackson could feel the steady breeze before he even opened his eyes. When he did he opened them to a full view of white roses and yellow tulips, he smiled sadly and reached out to touch them. And just like last time; he couldn't. Jackson's face contorted to an expression of anger and he thrashed violently at the flowers, not even caring for the stubborn tears that fought loose.

He propped up on to his elbows to get a better view of the soft and calming magenta-blue sky, soft clouds floating lazily and happily across their playground, Jackson scoffed angrily. He turned turned on to his side grumpily and glared at nothing.

He might as well enjoy the reprieve from his noisy hospital room he thought.

He inhaled deeply, with a reluctant smile, the smell of the yellow tulips and white roses and cinnamon..._'Wait __what ?'_

Jackson opened his eyes suddenly and he caught sight of young man lying with his arms behind his head, snoring lightly. Jackson jumped a few centimeters away to which the young man chuckled sleepily.

" Thank god, I was getting bored waiting for you." the young man smiled at Jackson, he got up and stretched his aching limbs. Jackson couldn't help but think how handsome the sunshine made the young man look..._'Sunshine?'_. Jackson turned curious eyes on to the bright yellow orb in the sky, he had never seen that here before.

"Come on get up—I want to show you something." came the young man's voice, breaking his thoughts.

"Who are you ?" Jackson said as he took the hand offered by the young man.

The young man smiled coyly before reaching down to grab something. "Here, I got these for you." The young man offered Jackson a clump of red tulips. Jackson couldn't help but feel a little girly, but he took the flowers anyway, albeit a little warily.

The young man smiled sadly and led Jackson toward the opening of a forest. Inside he took Jackson on to what looked like an uncharted path and they both got a full view of the wild life within the forest.

Every now and then the young man would smile at him and Jackson's heart would flutter no matter how many times he told it not to. It would flutter as well when Jackson sneaked glances at the young man; the young man had soft brownish skin, and glossy black hair. Jackson could also tell he was an athlete from the muscle he saw through the dark shirt.

When they halted their journey they stopped to lay down on the soft grass beneath them. They laid relatively close to each other, and Jackson was relatively content to stay that way as long as neither mentioned it.

Jackson looked over to the boy laying next to him, not being able to stop the smile that formed, and blushed madly when the boy caught him.

Jackson turned away and he heard the boy turn over. Suddenly his chin was being turned toward the boy's smiling face. "It's okay," he said. " I like you too." He took the red tulips and put them near Jackson's nose and then pulled them toward his own, smiling just as brightly as Jackson did then.

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Scott looked around hastily as he packed his homework carelessly in to his nap sack. Just then he got a text from his mom.

**Should I call a cab or are you still coming ?**

He sent his reply and continued the search for the car keys. When he looked outside he caught sight of them near some pink carnations,_ 'That was weird'_ he thought '_whatever.'_. He took the keys and got in to his mom's car and was on to the road within seconds.

Something looked especially creepy about tonight he noted; the way the moon looked brighter and the sky a bit darker. His wolf unsettled any time he caught sight of the moon, it was making it rather difficult to concentrate.

He checked the time periodically, to make sure he was picking his mom up on time, but this time he saw he had five missed calls from Stiles.

_'Damn it'_ he scolded himself for his absent mindedness. He'd been trying to give Stiles some space since their last fight, but apparently he must given him too much space, now he thinks the space wasn't that helpful.

He dialed the number and on the seventh ring Stiles picked up.

**Scott: **Stiles, hey, are you alright.

**Stiles: **I'm fine

**Scott:** You sure,well, okay. Well I just want to say I'm sorry about last time, I..

**Stiles:** It's fine.

Scott scrunched his face in confusion, why was Stiles being so terse ? While Scott was glad Stiles didn't sound mad he noticed that Stiles didn't sound like he was feeling anything at the moment either.

**Stiles: **Scott, if that's all you called for I'd appreciate it if you shut off the phone now.

Scott did a double take at this, not at the harshness but at how...emotionless it sounded.

**Scott: **Stiles are you sure your okay ?

**Stiles:** I'm fine, bye.

And no sooner Stiles end of the line cut off. Scott stared at his phone incredulously-"What the hell was that ?" he said.

He tucked his phone phone a little roughly into his pocket and continued down the road, deciding he would talk to Stiles about it later.

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Jackson felt the light drizzle before he heard the thunder crackle and his eyes opened immediately. The boy took Jackson's hand and soon they were off to find shelter. They found it in a small cavern, some miles off their original trail Jackson noticed. By the time they huddled into the cave the rain was pouring, Jackson looked outside curiously before taking his seat next to the boy.

" We're gonna have to get fire wood soon you know." the boy said after a few moments past.

Jackson looked at him incredulously. " You really want to go out in to that rain ?"

"We could race for it."

"As appealing as that sounds I'd rather not." They both shared a laugh at this.

"Well what do you suggest we do ?" the boy smiled warmly at Jackson.

Jackson thought for a minute. " I guess...We could..cuddle." Jackson looked away as his face turned beat red, glaring grumpily anywhere but at the boy.

Suddenly his chin was being turned toward the boy's face. Jackson was overwhelmed when he saw the boy's eyes; he saw adoration, pride and something else in those brown orbs.

"That sounds like a great idea."

So it was decided they sat in the corner, farthest from the rain, and they huddled together, into each other. Jackson smiled sadly at the boy in his arms, he kissed the top of his head, not being able to help the tears that spilled. He had never had anyone he could hold like this, never had anyone look at him like this boy did. He honestly didn't mind falling in love with this boy—even if it was for short time.

He hadn't noticed when his sobbing became too loud, but when the boy looked up at him concernedly he apologized. " Don't worry about it, there's nothing to apologize for." he said "What happened though, why are you crying ?"

Jackson apologized again for making the boy so worried before the boy smiled sadly. He felt as the boy wiped at one of his tears but as he kissed him the tears continued to spill.

It was awkward before Jackson felt comfortable enough to kiss back, and when he did his heart picked up it's pace. His stomach felt tingly as they kissed and he smiled uncontrollably at times before he could calm himself down.

Soon they were positioned on the floor and Jackson tugged at the boy's shirt for which he all too excitedly discarded. Their kissing continued before they felt comfortable enough to take off the rest of each other's clothes and soon they were both in their boxers. They continued with their passionate kissing until the boy stopped them. " Are you sure your okay with this ?" he turned concerned eyes on Jackson but he could see the lust behind them as well.

"Yeah...I'm okay..I'm ready." The young man smiled at Jackson misguided enthusiasm.

"We don't have to do anything your not ready for." Jackson nodded his head and turned away from the boy, suddenly he felt a whole lot smaller than he was. "Sorry." he said grumpily.

" Don't worry about it, It's completely understandable. But trust me it will be better when your ready."

At that both Jackson and the young man blushed ,even as they laughed out their tension. So they redressed themselves and decided to sleep cuddled together on the cavern floor, the heavy rain creating a exotic lullaby.

* * *

Scott pressed the button for the windshield wipers furiously before he continued to squint out the front window. _'Where had all this rain come from'_ he wondered. A few minutes ago there wasn't cloud in sight. He grumpily checked his phone again when he reached a stop light. He saw he had a few messages from his mom.

**Are you okay, you didn't crash or anything right. I hoped you remembered to bring an umbrella. **

He read this before he re-read through his messages and sure enough his mom did say something about an umbrella. He scoffed at his own stupidity before chucking his phone into the passenger side chair. He found an umbrella in the back seat before the light turned green, and chucked it into the passenger seat as he drove off.

* * *

When Jackson woke up the first thing he noticed was that the rain had stopped. He looked over to the young man and saw he too noticed the rain ceased.

"So I guess it's safe to go outside now." Jackson started.

"Yeah, you wanna finish the trail, we totally missed the best part yesterday." Jackson smiled contently and the young man took that as a yes.

They both got up and stretched their limbs, Jackson smiling contently the whole time. They continued a few feet away from where they finished yesterday and trekked further up the trail.

All the time they reveled in each other's company, smiling as they spotted even more wild life, they hadn't even noticed their locked fingers.

Soon they came to an eerie opening in the forest, it was surrounded by thick trees on either side, it kind of unsettled Jackson how eerily quite it was then.

"This is what I was talking about." came the young man's voice to interrupt the silence. Jackson turned towards the boy's direction and the first thing he saw was _"J + S"_ inscribed into a bark of tree.

Jackson smiled but soon curiosity over took him. " Wait, does your name begin with an S ?"

The boy grinned as he rocked back and forth on his heels. Jackson grinned right back. "So are you going to tell me what it is ?"

"Nope. You'll know soon enough." Jackson couldn't help the pout that formed at the cryptic message.

Suddenly the boy turned stiff and his playful demeanor disappeared. Jackson expression contorted to one of confusion. " What ? What's wrong ?" he said, was this how it was going to end. Figures it would end when Jackson finally fell in love with the boy.

The boy soon pointed his finger behind Jackson and Jackson turned in that direction a little curiously.

At first it wasn't that shocking; he recognized an older Lydia Martin splayed across a young man's lap. She was dressed in a beautiful white gown that cut off at the thighs, it contrasted beautifully with her red hair. It was when he noticed the blade protruding from her chest that he became shocked.

Holding said blade was a young man around his age with short brown hair and ivory skin ridden with moles. The young man looked up from where he held Lydia and looked Jackson straight in the eyes.

Where Jackson expected sad, tear ridden eyes he found dead brown ones looking back at him. The young man's eyes had dark circles around them Jackson noticed, and he noted that his skin wasn't ivory but extremely pale.

Jackson backed away slowly, reaching for the comfort of the boy. When instead he backed into their tree he knew he was in trouble.

" Why are you so scared Jackson, I was only protecting you." The voice sounded like it was coming from all over the forest. Jackson realized it must have been coming from the young man on the floor.

The young man stood up with a lifeless Lydia still in his hands. He moved languidly toward Jackson, looking condescendingly toward Lydia.

"She tried to hurt you, did you know that ?" One look at Jackson told him no. " She tried to separate you from your mate, but I took care of her, for you. This Evil Witch !" Suddenly Lydia's lifeless form erupted in flames and Jackson screamed at the top of his lungs, had he really just watched his child hood friend burn to death ?

Jackson clasped his hand over his mouth so as to stop his own ragged breathing, but the tears coupled with his increasing fear only made it worse.

The young man continued his walk towards Jackson, to which Jackson backed away further. "What are you so scared of Jackson." He said. When he saw Jackson's frantic eyes looking anywhere but him he smiled coyly. "Are you looking for him ?" The young man turned and Jackson followed his gaze to the boy from earlier.

His form was splayed out on the floor and Jackson could tell he was unconscious. Yet he still ran to him, to see if he was okay.

" He's fine." came the voice of the other young man. He stopped a few inches away from Jackson and the boy.

" I have tested him and have deemed him unworthy of your affection." Jackson glared at him incredulously, angry tears threatening to spill.

"Go. To. Hell. !" Jackson said, and he couldn't believe so much venom came from his mouth.

The young man tisked and shook his head condescendingly. " I'd rather be destroyed than go there. Where I come from, it's much more pleasant." he chuckled at whatever it was he knew.

Jackson didn't laugh though, he felt more like crying, and that laugh only fortified that feeling. He hadn't noticed but when the other young man started chuckling he quickly took a protective stance over his friend.

The young man noticed though , and he quickly became angry. " Jackson why are you so hard headed. Can't you see, he'll never love like I do. I'm the only one who can protect you! He doesn't deserve you !" The young man's voice raised to unmeasurable levels, causing the wild life to stir and unsettle. Jackson almost fell over from the sheer force of the young man's anger.

As he became angrier, Jackson noticed, the black light around the young man grew brighter. Tears fell as Jackson shook his head, at this the young-man became even angrier.

" No you idiot, why are you so stubborn ! Don't you trust me ?" The young man said sadly. Jackson shook his head, as he no longer fought the tears that fell.

" Oh yeah, Well would someone who loves you attack you." The young man smirked in Jackson's direction to which Jackson followed reluctantly.

When he turned around completely he came face to face with a black wolf, who's amber eyes lashed like flames at him. Jackson recoiled away from the animal all the way in to the young man's left leg. He looked up to see him grinning wickedly at him.

The young man bent over into Jackson's face as he said, " You know he never wanted to love you, he wasn't strong enough. One look at the pretty little red head and you together made him sure of that. Is that what you really want in a lover; some one so pathetic and weak minded." he finished bitterly.

When Jackson didn't answer the black aura grew brighter. " Well answer me ! Do you really want someone so easily tricked, someone like him." He gestured to the black wolf.

Jackson didn't even have time to look as the black wolf pounced on him. It began scratching at him rabidly. The young man laughed wickedly as the wolf clawed Jackson to pieces.

Jackson felt every tear and every bone crushing hit, and even as he screamed at the top of his lungs the wolf would not relent.

Finally it clawed until it reached Jackson's heart and immediately it bit into it, relinquishing a blood curdling scream from Jackson.

When his vision started going black the last he heard the young man say was. " In the end he'll hurt you just like she did." And then Jackson could hear nothing else. When had his dream turned into a nightmare.

* * *

Scott was pushing delicately on the breaks yet the car seemed to be going at the same speed. Some time between his last text to his mom and the moment he put his eyes back on the road the rain had started pouring harder, and up until then Scott wasn't sure that was possible.

So he tried to keep the car to a minimal speed, he guessed though, that the wet streets made that a bit harder. Just then his phone started ringing and he glanced only once and saw it was his mom. He decided he pick it up at the next light.

As Scott came closer to the hospital he noticed the faint red and blue lights—the cops? What were they doing here he wondered,maybe somebody crashed ?

There was a stop sign up ahead so Scott was preparing to press down on the breaks when he noticed a body in the middle of the road.

" Holy Shit." he pressed down on the breaks immediately and halted to a stop a few meters away from the body.

He rushed out of the car and ran to the front. Right there, a few centimeters away from the bumper, was Jackson drenched and lying on the floor.

"What the f*** ?"Scott said, supporting himself on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

Even through the rain Scott could smell Jackson's emotions; resentment, heartbreak, loneliness. But the most repugnant one was fear. He quickly bent to pick Jackson up, before he did he heard the faint beat of Jackson's heart, and quickly Scott began to panic.

He placed him into the back seat, straddled him, and started pressing both hands firmly on to Jackson's chest. He repeatedly pressed on to Jackson's chest until the boy's eyes shot open.

But they started to shut close just as quick but Scott shook him. " Come on Jackson, Now is not the time fall asleep on me. Stay with me."

Scott let his head fall on to Jackson chest when the boy didn't respond. Suddenly a hand gripped his arm, it was a weak grip but it was something. Scott thanked the heavens either way and got back into the front seat all the while saying things like " Stay with me ."and " Please don't die."

Through his constant reassurances he didn't hear Jackson's weak but just barely audible " Always."

* * *

**_Can you spot the symbolisms ?_**


	6. Chapter 6

**So sorry it took so long but the sixth chapter is finally here. So were gonna take a break from Scott and Jackson and bring Lydia and Stiles back into the story. One more thing, do you guys think I should start naming these chapters ? Leave your thought if you think I should, I've been pondering it for the last three chapters now.**

* * *

" Hello, anybody home ?" came Mrs. Stilinski's voice.

She stepped inside and had already noticed her husband's sleeping form draped over the couch. She smiled fondly, as an overwhelming sense of "home" enveloped her. She draped the throw over him and proceeded up the stairs, leaving her purse on the hallway table.

Mrs. Stilinski heard the thunder before she noticed the cold breeze, it was the moist air that usually came with heavy down pour.

She cracked the door open before completely throwing it a jar. She rushed to the unconscious form sprawled across the floor; his head thrown sideways in an expression of unfocused terror. She shook the unconscious boy, her head reeling and her heart stopping every few beats. When Stiles finally awakened from his odd state her heart had stopped before righting itself. The amount of relief she felt made her suddenly burst with laughter. The young boy stared at his mother oddly.

Not used to Stiles' quiet and reserved self Mrs. Stilinski made quick to fill the silence. " Gen, are you okay. You passed out sweety. Did you hurt yourself again ?" Mrs Stilinski chuckled at the implication, but when Stiles narrowed his eyes in confusion her face set into a frown. " Come on sweety I'm sure it wasn't that embarrassing. At least not as much as the tub incident." She jarred Stiles' shoulder in a fond manner. Stiles recoiled as if he was burned, he turned a glare onto his surprised mother, it looked like one a king would give to a filthy peasant.

Mrs. Stilinski's expression mirrored her son's as both their faces set into slight frowns. "Come on sweety let's get you something to eat." she said finally. Stiles seemed to recover at the proclamation of food. Denying his mother's offered hand, he walked past her and out the door.

Mrs. Stilinski found him sitting at the table eating a plate of waffles. Each time, he would put a waffle in his mouth and he would spit it out the next moment, it was like he was taste testing but more vulgar.

Mrs. Stilinski's face became marred with concern; her son loved waffles, and she herself never thought they were bad enough to warrant hacking them up.

She placed a hand on Stiles' shoulder by the sixth waffle and the boy turned a confused glare on her. That was another thing, her son was definitely known for his dramatics; and his clumsiness. But he would never turn a hateful glare on anyone, he had too much good in his heart for that, someone would have to have done something evil to warrant such a glare. So Mrs. Stilinski makes an inference from that.

"Sweety, is everything alright at school ?" she started, Stiles' glare intensified.

Before she could reprimand the boy his mouth slacked, his eyes glazed over and his form stiffened.

His mother , caught by surprise , stumbled with her words before just forgetting the reprimand. She hesitantly placed her hands on his shoulder, as if to keep him from straying too far from reality.

The boy turned his head so fast Mrs. Stilinski barely registered it. " May I borrow the car," he narrowed his eyes inquisitively. " Mother."

It took her a while to respond, she was caught off guard by the random question after all. But something else was setting off her sixth sense. It was as if the hook had just missed the fish; like something big was escaping her notice.

"Mother ?"

Her eyes darted to the right as she collected her thoughts; that's what it was. That is what set off her alarms. Normally she would revel in the victory of figuring it out so quickly, but now, it only served to make her terrified.

Before she could respond to Stiles she set into a fit of coughing and that's not really a surprise. Lately Mrs. Stilinski has been prone to fits of coughing; each one seemingly worse than the last. But this time seemed to take the cake. As the coughs violently racked her body, it felt like each cough shook her to the core—she felt it in her bones even, she found that she could not straighten herself. Each time she came close to recovering she would set into another fit. By now the coughs had begun take the energy out of her, each one stealing it away as they left her body.

Before she knew it she was grabbing on to the island for support and she could see the splutters of red decorating her palm from behind the black spots dancing in her vision. Her alarms set off before she heard the clanking of dishes and then suddenly she felt the sharp pain of iron colliding with the back of her head.

Those black spots had become saucers before they completely enveloped her sense of sight. The last things she heard were the jiggling of car keys, the front door slamming, and her ring-tone.

* * *

Lydia awoke with a jolt, knocking over the books previously splayed across her bedroom desk. She swivels, rubbing the nightmare out of her eyes, away from the harsh light of her desk lamp. Her head is on her hand as she tries to catch her breath, her heart is still beating a mile per minute.

To be honest it had seemed like any other nightmare but something about it made it seem different. Perhaps it's because it was more realistic than any other or maybe,by just as much, it was more surreal, if that made any sense.

When her heartbeat rights itself she is out of the chair and downstairs in record time. She has thrown on something casual, which is saying a lot about the nightmare she just had, and takes a glass of orange juice. All the while Lydia stares at nothing, eyes unfocused and yet her movements are precise and thought out.

The sudden ringing of her phone jolts her back into focus. She reaches aimlessly for the phone before realizing that it's up stairs. Suddenly she registers the distinct cackling of an open flame and it's then that she registers that there's an open flame on the oven, and she doesn't remember turning it on.

She tries turning the oven switch to off, but it does nothing to the flame. She tries pouring water on it, it fizzles, but it does not disperse. She grabs at a cloth, but she's never seen it before, regardless she smacks at the flame, again, it does nothing.

The flame is starting to grow and she's starting to worry that she may not be able to stop this. When she remembers the phone in the hallway she runs out of the kitchen and is reaching for it without hesitation. As she is mere inches from the phone a jolt of electricity knocks the phone off it's hook. She recoils her hand and steps a few feet back, though she didn't actually feel any pain.

Her eyes dart to the now massive flame in the kitchen, and everything is bursting into flames, and the fire is deliberately moving toward the hallway rug. Lydia backs away on instinct, until she has her back against a wall. She is sweating, more than she'd like to admit, but that doesn't really matter when your life is in danger. Neither does the designer cardigan she's wearing, she definitely doesn't care after she has swiped at the flames with it so many times, by the time she pulls it back it's scorched.

She throws the scorched cardigan at the flames half-heartedly, by this time she already notices that most of the exits are blocked by massive pillars of fire. And she won't lie, she is crying, she's honestly never felt so scared in her life because she honestly might die now.

But if Lydia Martin is anything, she sure as hell is not a quitter. Of course one look around the house and her resolves kind of crumbles. She slides down the peach walls and on to the carpet with a look of stubborn disposition. Even though she knows she's beaten, she reaches for the phone half-heartedly but—again—a jolt of electricity blasts the phone away from her.

Her arms slumps to her side and her heads lulls to the right with a forlorn expression. She closes her eyes, real tight, and wishes that her kitchen had never set on fire. But that's stupid, wishes are for people who are too lazy to put the hard work in to achieve their goals, and Lydia Martin is not lazy.

Lydia Martin is not stupid, she is not crying and she is not going to die! Lydia Martin is not going to die! Lydia Martin is not going to die!

When Lydia opens her tear ridden eyes the house is not on fire anymore and her designer cardigan is right where she threw it. Right away a sort of alarm goes off in Lydia's head, it's telling her she needs investigate more in to this ,of course Lydia was already doing that.

She hesitantly steps into the kitchen, her eyes dart everywhere, for a sign of the previous fire. There's nothing, not even her cardigan is scorched. She takes a couple of minutes to wrap her head around this but she can't, she just can't.

Lydia Martin is a woman of science and like hell she is going to believe that the flames just...magically disappeared. Nope, Lydia was obviously very jarred from her nightmare and was just hallucinating.

When she is finally convinced that that is what happened she hears the police sirens outside. She steps out of the house, with her fashionable umbrella of course, to see what's going on. The police are all rushing towards the Beacon Hills hospital, and at first she is a little worried. It's when Mrs. Stilinski's car passes by in the same direction that she thinks maybe she should see what's going on.

"Hopefully Jackson is okay." she says, a personal prayer to herself.

* * *

**I remembered I told someone I would tell them what happened to Stiles this chapter but maybe next one. Anyway thanks for reading this, sorry it's so short, but I didn't want to keep you guys waiting for as long as I did last time. I hope you have a great week. ;)**


	7. Chapter 7

**_Please enjoy the 7th chapter of the Magic's in the Moon. See end of chapter for notes. Sorry it took so long._**

* * *

Jackson has his head bowed, lying on his folded arms that are draped across his knees. He doesn't bother looking up because he knows where he is, and even if he did it'd be like looking into an abyss. And an abyss is what is was, a dark, endless, some how cramp, and cold place. No matter where you looked the darkness enveloped your senses with it's thick coating.

It's properties are all too familiar to young Jackson who has dreamed this nightmare several times before. He tries to hide from it, behind the protection of his arms, but the chill, the empty feeling still seeps in to his bones.

The Abyss is quite, except for it's tendency to reverberate the sounds of others, such as the sounds of a tired, lonely and scared young man. Jackson tries to fight it, the black fog clawing at his throat, because he's a stubborn young man and he'll be damned if he dies this way.

But it's too late, the darkness is upon him, and with it a set of epiphanies. As the darkness slithers up his spine and across his knees, his breathing becoming shallow as it does, he realizes this is the end. He is going to be alone forever. He'll never see his Mom or his Dad again. He'll never be what he wanted to be. The love of his life was only a dream, and he'll never be able to experience it.

He can't help the sobs that break through then, not even if he wanted too. His tears cascade down the black ooze enveloping his body, they too disappear in the Abyss.

He won't lie, he tries to sink deeper in to the Abyss now, with the coming realization of his fruitless existence. He's still afraid, still scared of the cramp, dark, and cold nothingness, but he resigns to his fate.

And as he sinks deeper and deeper, white tears fall from his clamped shut eyes and float on the darkness like a feather. But Jackson only feels the dark, ever present, overwhelming, suffocating, painful, feeling of loneliness as his whole being sinks deeper and deeper.

* * *

Scott twiddles his thumbs by Jackson's side, hunched over from his spot on the bed. Jackson lays farther up the bed ,wrapped in a plethora of blankets to keep his fever down. Scott traces the outlines of Jackson's person with his eyes, unable to help himself, and it serves it's purpose.

But alas a distraction can only last for so long, the effects of his actions from earlier are still daunting to him. Scott, for lack of a better word, freaked out. When he came in to view of the police at the hospital a moment earlier the scene before him set his wolf into a frenzy. Some invisible force was setting his nerves on edge. Scott, never one to doubt his instincts, fled the scene. Now, only two hours later, the moment still seemed like a blur and he can't help but associate the moment with an intense feeling of fear.

Never the less, what's done is done. Scott can't think of another way to summarize it. So instead he sits by Jackson's side, as a comforting presence for when he wakes up. Scott shivers as he touches the cold skin of Jackson's ankle. He thinks aloud, with an edge of frustration, "When will you stop feeling like a Popsicle ?"

He didn't expect a reply but more questions do come to mind. "What were you doing outside Jackson ?" he says to no one.

Just then the doorbell rings and Jackson curls closer to Scott.

* * *

" How did you get out ?" He says looking up at the open window. It's all the way on the third floor and yet there is no sign of Jackson, not even an crippled heap of blood and limbs on the concrete below the hospital window.

He halts his search when the police lights start flashing this way. He hides himself in the dark crevice of shadows of the hospital walls, for extra measure, he turns invisible.

As the police look up at the open window of room 301, he ponders the aforementioned question; How did he get out ?

If he truly has no memory of his past life then he couldn't have teleported, but there isn't any other way he could have gotten out without breaking a limb or two.

Stiles steps out of the shadows as the police turn their heads, though he's still invisible. He thinks about his mother's car in the parking lot and after a cacophony of howling wind and loud static he's there.

He walks few steps to his mother's car, thinking he should probably be discreet while continuing his search. He heads off in the direction of the road in order to look for more clues as to why Jackson had disappeared so suddenly.

The phrase "It might not have been by choice." crosses his mind a few times.

* * *

" Excuse me ?"

"I said have you seen Jackson Whittemore ?"

" You mean the guy in the hospital ?" Scott says to the police man. As soon as he heard the doorbell ring a moment before he became hit with the brunt of an intense fear again. He tried to calm his nerves before answering the door but to no avail.

Now the cop stands at the door, his expression is mildly annoyed, he must have been doing this for a while Scott guessed. " What happened ?" he says to the officer.

" Well the kid has disappeared from the hospital ?" The officer says. " The Whittemores are just making sure he didn't run off or something."

"So...what do I have to do with this ?"

"I'm asking if you've seen him kid."

"Well I haven't...so" He says a bit too quickly and the cop eyes him suspiciously.

"You sure you never swung by, to satisfy your curiosity ?"The officer says. " I'm sure the town's been talking 'bout it for weeks."

"Yeah. I don't even know the guy."

"Really ? Cause your mother tells me she caught you and your friend Stiles coming out of room 301, Jackson's room, a couple of weeks ago."

Scott's heart thrashes against his chest and he struggles to think over the sound of it. " That-that was a-"

"Save it. What were you doing in Jackson's room kid ?" the cop jabs an accusing finger into Scott's chest.

Just then Jackson's wail cuts through the house.

Scott was the first to turn around but the cop shoves him out of the way. Scott's brain finally kicks into gear. And so does his wolf.

The two bound for the stairs and Scott has to buck the officer to the side to get ahead, the officer is left to gather his rattled wits. Scott finally appears at the door of his room.

The lights are off and he can barely make out Jackson's defeated form sitting at the edge of the bed. Scott moves a bit closer until Jackson registers that someone else is in the room. His eyes trace back up to Scott's face until cold green meet with hot amber.

In that moment Scott's heart catches in his throat and Jackson's eyes soften. Scott reaches out a tentative hand and Jackson eyes it dubiously. He does outstretch his hand though, and that makes Scott smile more than he probably should. But the sound of a body bulldozing the slightly closed door wide open steals the moment away from them.

"Hold it right there!" the officer says passionately. He has his firearm aimed at Scott's back but he eyes a frightened Jackson on the bed. The officer fumbles slightly with his weapon as Scott turns an impassioned amber glare on him.

But Jackson's not so bold in the face of a weapon,no, he looks towards the forest instead of the gunman and shuts his eyes. Before Scott can turn his head Jackson's gone ,in a gush of wind that sounded like the call of wolves, and Scott is left staring at his room's view of the forest.

He doesn't even have time to wonder where Jackson has gone as he is tackled to the ground by a brute of a police officer. "Scott McCall, I'm taking you in. You have the right to-"

But Scott ignores the rest because he's pretty sure his life just collapsed but the only thing he's worried about is why he feels so empty all of a sudden.

* * *

Stiles stops at another stop light and lets out his frustration in a big exhale of air. He hadn't been able to find any clues to Jackson's whereabouts, but there was this odd pair skid marks he saw on his way back from the hospital. But he couldn't get much from them.

_'I swear to God—My mom better be alright you son of a bitch'_ says the other voice inside his head. His frustration only builds at the sound of the child in his head. _'I'm not a child, asshole' _it says again. He groans aloud and rubs circles at his temples. Although he does wonder if it was necessary to use a frying pan on Mrs. Stilinski, surely she is okay by now. _'What, have you gone soft now'_ says the other voice inside his head, not the child though, it's her own.

The light turns green before _Stiles_ has a chance to reply. But as soon as _Stiles_ presses the gas he stomps on the breaks. _She_ can see an energy trail glowing bright blue in the night sky signifying the path traveled by a teleporter, and it's directed towards the forest.

"_Jackson_." _She_ breathes aloud and _she_ gets out of the car and starts towards the forest.

* * *

**_Thank you so much for reading this chapter. These past few months it's been hard finding inspiration and getting this story back on track, hopefully it will keep coming._ **


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